Just My Imagination
by OctoberStorms
Summary: Preview-   A girl who has lost her right mind by paint chemicals takes to airbrushing mostly cars. As days pass by, here sanity is being questioned more deeply. The future doesn't seem to care though.
1. Chapter 1

So I read many stories on fanfiction and hopefully know what people look for in a story. I do use Microsoft word as a beta tester so there shouldn't be TOO many mistakes but you never know.

I own nothing||

~October

_Spray Paint and ink pens, I use every color I think in_

_ To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in. _

_ The galleries the beat._

Red and blue make purple, yellow and blue make green and red and yellow make orange. These are the primary and secondary colors. Normal to most eyes, but to others, completely different. Hundreds of different shades, tints… highlights. Rainbows, the reflection of sunlight against drops of rain or mist and the color scale, organizer of both primary and secondary colors.

Raising the airbrush and pulling the trigger like cocking a gun, released a spray of paint over my canvas. A semi tricked out and suited up for a car show taking place somewhere over the rainbow. Rainbows the reflection of sunlight against drops o- no. I believe I have already said that. I can't help my repeat of words, sentences even conversations. Like Vincent Van Gogh's habit of chewing on his paint brushes had made him completely unstable, is seemingly happening to me. True though, I don't chew on brushes of any sort, but the many years of being in contact with no means of defense against the chemicals in the airbrush paint or any paint really.

When I was still legally a kid, I had been taken to a neurologist to find out any interference in my brain. I was told that I had been exposed to a lot of chemicals found in airbrush and spray paint. Although this maybe true, I refuse to quit airbrushing. Like I said, my reason to communicate is slowly drifting away. I will have constant conversations with myself as if there really was another person with me. Think of it as two people sharing control in one body. I sure put the pun in "become one with yourself." It had increased to yelling and squealing with joy, I have even managed to make myself cry because of what I had said to myself. It must have been pretty offensive if I made myself cry over something that had never happened. The only good thing is I never had gotten physical before.

Shadows out of the corner of my eyes have brought mild paranoia to me. I had once saw something that I and spent five minutes trying to figure out where it was. I ended up barricading myself into my own shop. Don't think I came out for days… well at least it felt like days. It may have been a few hours. I had once saw a shadow out of the co- not again.

It is hard to converse with another person who actually existed. I had a hard time, I can't look people in the eyes some reason, so I end up looking over their shoulder which only cause them to look over there shoulder as if somebody was making faces at the back.

I had never had a bad life, not at all. Parents were strange but normal. I had some friends granted few and not close friends but they kept me from sitting by myself at the lunch table. I was a cute girl, not stunning or beautiful but cute. Cute enough to have a few boyfriends. Ever since my little…. Predicament started, I abandon relationships with people other then my parents. Being twenty one and living in Colorado, I was a great distance from my parents back in Iowa. They hadn't called me in awhile, probably because I'm too paranoid to answer the phone. No, I wasn't scared, just anxious. You would get the best out of me if you talked to me in person.

Enough o my continuous downward spiral into a black hole called insanities peak. Before I begin to repeat myself, I stared at the large truck sizing it up. Almost finished, two more days. Making stencils and placing them on the truck as bullet holes. The commissioner's requirements wanted a prison theme to it, something with cement walls, barbwire, guns and bullets. I must say though, this looks like a prison transportation bus complete with the required cement walls and barbwire I even made small electric zaps on the sharp wire.

Peeling off the stencils, I designed them into holes. " Don't mess up, he will kill you if you do." I said to myself," No! He would never-!" I squeaked fear rising within me," Yes he will! Didn't you see the way he eyed his… baby?" My expression changed from serious to fear stricken," He was? I didn't know! I don't want to die! Oh he wouldn't he couldn't. No no no no no no!" I frantically panicked, " Then watch what your doing! He is everywhere, watching us, stalking us even studying us…" expression changing from serious and command to submission and hyper ventilation," Okay okay I wont mess up. All I have to do is focus, focus yes yes focus is good." I blabbered to myself more, managing to scare myself to stumbled hands. Hell my whole body was shaking.

My phone screamed causing me to scream louder and longer then what is needed. I knock over a chair and toppled over with it. Slowly crawling over to my phone which now lay screen flat on the floor I picked it up as if it would shock me at any given moment," Well answer it Teddy Grahams!" I smarted to myself. Fumbling my phone and quickly answered it like I was addressing the devil himself," Hi h-hello-o?"

I hope it went okay… You don't know the character's name yet I know. You will find out first thing next chapter. Doesn't feel short when you're typing it. I feel like I have been typing for a decade. The quote at the top is from the song Spray paint and Ink pens by Mike Shinoda and Lupe Ghost face Fiasco. Reviews would be helpful.

~ October


	2. Chapter 2

The beginning of the actual story, hopefully you have a general understanding of the character's personality. I apologize if there is something that will offend somebody, as a pre warning.

_It's an expression coming out of a simple can of paint._

_Look, it's the easiest way for the average kid to paint things using himself as the meaning of it._

_Your gonna get into that gallery real soon, man._

_Why? I'm not gonna be famous one day_

_Why do you always say that?_

_'cause it's true _

"H-hello-o?" I spit out. There was a silent pause on the other line. 'I'm starting to think that I've just been prank called.' I thought to myself.

"Is this… Fly?" The voice confusingly said. I know who this is. It was the commissioner for that car show. Blinking and slowly sitting up on the floor," Fly Van Howler, yes?" I cautiously spoke. I'm not a coward or scared I am mildly paranoid, yes that's it. You wouldn't go out much either if you had fumes gassing your brain cells.

"Right, I want to know how the truck is coming along. No problems I assume?" I twitched, 'You're gay' I snickered to myself," None." I replied back to him. I heard some noise in the back before he replied," When do you think it should be finished? It has to be done within two days." He sounds nervous, " I assure you sir that it will be done by then." I responded hearing a sigh of relief on the other line," Good. You had me worried for a moment."

"Yes, well don't be." I tried to make it sound friendly knowing how some people might reply badly. "Right I've seen you work, are you working on it now?" He questioned.

I sprayed the brush in return," I am."

"Alright well get back to work." He joked with me, " I will." I snapped my flip phone shut and sat it next to my stool onto a cart table. My eyes shifted to the front door, which compared to the other doors, is doggy size. I heard a car approach then a door slam shut. My old Beagle dog ran out of a tipped over crate towards the door howling like a blizzard.

The door squeaked open when a younger man walked in looking somewhat nervous. My Beagle Diesel howled at the kid, startling him more. "Good doggy! Here have some jerky." He pulled a small piece of Jacklink from his pant's pocket. Why he had jerky in his pocket, I don't want to know.

Diesel quieted down to little barks but refused to take the offering.

I stood up and walked towards the teen," Diesel is a little dog with a big bark, you alright kid?" I took off my apron. The old hound stumbled back into the crate he first came from.

"Yeah I'm fine, why would I not be? Yeah I'm okay!" He frantically spoke.

There was an awkward silence that covered the whole building that I call home. Blinking a few times," So, you are…?" I wondered. Too bad he was to busy staring at all the cars in my shop. Only two are mine and they are outside behind the shop, the rest are definitely nowhere near my price range.

"…These are yours?" He gawked at all the cars.

I shifted my weight onto my left leg," Hell no. I just own the shop, not the cars. Those are commissioned vehicles; some of them have been here for a year. I only airbrush them, I don't know anything about the anatomy of a car. Hell, I still get my oil changed from a mechanic." I stated watching him finally turn his eyes towards me.

"Right anyway, you do paintjobs?" He looked at me with his hands in his pockets. I stared at him as if he just said, "Did you know the grass is actually green?" Well if the front door labeled "Body shop" didn't give it away then you would think all the shiny cars and not to mention the semi right behind me with a goddamn prison painting on it would give it away.

"Yeah that is what the front door says." I switched my weight again to the right side. He nervously laughed," Oh it does doesn't it?" He quickly looked back at the door then back to look at me with an embarrassed smile.

I stared at him growing tired of his presence. Naturally I'm not this mean, I just don't have a lot of time to waste on a kid who walks in here to stare at cars. There is a truck that needs to be at a show in two days.

"I'm sorry but what do you want? I have a truck that needs to be in a show in two days."

" Oh right, really busy huh? Yes well I have a car that I had bought that needs a new paint job." He looked at me," How long would that take?"

"It would take awhile. I would begin in two days after the owner to this truck picks it up. If you look around, there isn't much space left until I get this truck out of here. The price varies on what I am doing. This truck is a full graphic canvas and has taken almost a year to do alone. A lot of paint and brushes, it would be pricy." His expression was priceless.

His eyes widen," How much is pricy? I just spent all my money on the car itself…"

"Depends, what is the complexity of the car?"

"The what?"

Sighing," What are the colors of the car?"

"Oh, it's a yellow Camaro you know, black stripes…" I might understand more if I could understand his hand signals while explaining a simple thing such as his car.

"I need to look at it. I'm guessing you drove it here?"

"Course I did!" There goes the hand signs again.

Putting my hands in my hoodie pockets, I followed him outside. I'm not that into cars despite my career, but it was a nice car. Granted, the paint job sucked but a nice car altogether. However, I have seen a lot of Camaros in my life span before, this one just adds to the list of them.

I walked around the car, crouching down here and there to examine the current paint. Taking my finger and pinching some of the rust off and brought it to my face.

"Yeah, the paint job sucks." I spoke bluntly while scrapping off the rust on my thumb and pointer finger. The car trembled but I took nothing of it. Already experiencing mental issues, this doesn't surprise me anymore then the last several occasions.

"Have you washed it lately?" I said turning to look at him.

"…No?" He said scratching his neck in embarrassment.

" If I were to repaint it, I ask that you wash it first then bring it back. Price can be anywhere between 1000$ to 2000$ depending on what kind of paint and who does it. The colors may not be difficult, but the amount of rust on the car will be difficult to remove. The rust can interfere with the paint if simply painted over. I could remove most of the rust, but for a cheaper price, I would have somebody who can specialize in that sort of maintenance fix it. If you fix that, I will lower the price drastically to 300$." I said.

"So if I can take care of the rust, you would lower the price?"

"That is what I said yes." I said once again leaning on my left leg.

"Alright, I think I know somebody who can do that." He said leaning onto his car.

Blinking a few times," The car would remain with me for however long it takes."

He didn't reply for a while which is understandable, he is a teen boy. They want their car to show off, it tends to be what most of them do once they get that Transam or Mustang GT they have been saving up for.

"If I can get the rust removed and you do lower the price I guess it doesn't matter how long it takes…" He trailed off still uncertain on the time he would be without his car.

"Alrighty then. Once you fix some of the rust bring it back and I'll see about the space."

…..

Statement at the top is also apart of the song Spraypaint and Ink Pens. Probably spoken by Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park.

Another short chapter. I have a lot of people adding the story to their story alerts which is great. It would be nice to have some reviews, but story alerts are great too. Hopefully as the story continues, I will make them longer.

Spraypaint and Ink Pens is by Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park and Lupe Fiasco etc.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Hey, that's really good!"_

_ "yeah, I know." I said not looking up to meet his gaze._

"_How do you do that?"_

_ "I, I don't know."_

_Once an artist, always an artist~_

_October_

Today is the last day to finish the paint job and for once I am glad to be done. Working on the same thing everyday for a whole year makes one become rather tired of their work. Usually this isn't the case for me since I have nothing better to do.

Wiping the needle of the gun (white tends to clot the most) with my finger I couldn't help but contemplate on purchasing a new gun. Chewing on the inside of my cheek," Served me well." I said then softly finished writing my signature on the far bottom right corner. I stood up, the stool scooting back a few inches, and wiped the excess paint on my stained pants. While walking to the water fountain and grabbing a small plastic cup to fill, I couldn't stop myself from staring at a small piece of plywood near the wall to my right.

No, there was nothing important about it no meaning what so ever, but now days, that's just me behaving as well… me. Then again I have seen other people do the same so maybe this is normal for once… to become fascinated by something of no importance.

Shaking my head before my thoughts wanted to let themselves be known, I continued to fill the small plastic cup. I started to actually think of my thoughts being separate individuals instead of just one. As days went on, I started to see things. At first it wasn't this bad, but now it has began to rapidly worsen. One of the things I see the most is a small cat that named itself as 300. I could tell it didn't exist for it would be there one second then gone the next.

I turned around and almost dropped my small cup at the site of 300 sitting where I was going to place my small cup. It squawked and disappeared in the blink of my eyes.

"Stupid ugly cat. Thinks it can play magician on me." I growled and stomped over to my stool and twirled around in it. This is what really gets me acting up when I have nothing to do. I hated silence, absolutely _hated_ it. When it is silent, I begin to think and when I begin to think, those thoughts become conversations.

A small shuffling sound caught my ear and directed me over to the crate Diesel slept in. The silence is why I got a dog, to keep me busy so I have someone to talk to other then myself. However, I did not see Diesel in his crate or anywhere for that matter.

"Diesel boy, come er'!" No response, I tried again only louder, "Diesel! Where are you? Dumb ole' dog…" I muttered to myself and stood up to walk over to the crate. It became quiet again only this time, it was a suspenseful silence. Slowly bending down, I pulled up the tattered cloth hanging off the top of the crate and peeked inside. It was dark and I didn't see my old dog anywhere. I squinted my eyes and searched deeper- bad idea.

A loud snarling hiss with a hint of a growl accompanied a small cat lashing out at me through the darkness of the crate scratching me on my knuckle. I screamed and fell back fast falling on my butt on the verge of tears and scrambled as close to the opposite side of the building as I could. The scratch on my hand disappeared along with the cat. I dared myself to open my eyes and look back at the crate only to see Diesel with wide eyes starring at me cocking his head side to side. My stool began to quiver and creek underneath my deathly grip on the worn out padding.

When I even began to think about standing up, I shot back down with a quick screech when I heard a knock at the door. My heart was racing so fast, it could have won a marathon.

Slowly standing up, I made my way towards the small door. I turned the doorknob and opened the door enough to fit my body through it. Of course it was the commissioner. How did I manage to forget that?

We stared at each other a moment until I realized the awkward situation," Sorry, I was uh... working on something." I lied with a sheepish grin to cover up my moment of devastation. The look in his eyes spoke bluntly 'of course you were' expression. I flinched when he folded his arms across his chest, but I listened anyway, ignoring the harsh tone of his voice," I take it you are finally finished yes?" he questioned. I nodded in return and opened the door further for him to walk through.

While he grazed on the field of cars with brand new paint jobs I turned the lights up giving him a better view. His eyes finally settled upon his truck. He paved a path to the paint canvas of a truck -with me close behind- inspecting it from the bottom to the top.

I must say despite my ever-growing disinterest, it was something for the eyes.

I spent a few days in the beginning to wash the entire vehicle before I completely change the base color from a yellowing white to a coffee tan-brown hinted with some smooth gray.

Setting paint defying borders to make sure I didn't get paint on the stainless steels, purchasing loads of quality paint (nobody wants the cheapest), believe me, it was a blow to my pocket.

My eyes beamed in freight when my _feline_ of a friend glared down at the commissioner from a higher platform that held materials, brisling and preparing for what looks to be a predator's pounce. When said cat sprang downwards I screamed covering my mouth with both hands. With my eyes squeezed shut, I can already see my company's reaction. That cat, that beast of my imagination has caused many problems in its short time it had appeared to me, from scaring the piss out of me (literally), to falling into hysterics.

My prediction on him was confirmed once I opened my eyes to take a glance at him. His expression was startled, shocked and most of all somewhat angry. I could only say one thing to him," S-sorry, you see there is this cat th-" I began but immediently shut up when he began," There isn't a cat as far as I have seen, what are you half insane or half stupid? You scared the shit out of me." He frowned deepening his glare at me but changed the subject back to his truck," Although insane, you are talented. It is better then I foresaw. It is even better then what I had in mind." He finished without looking at me.

Ignoring his rude but true outburst," Thank you and you are free to take it at anytime." He nodded and walked towards the driver's door, opened it then climbing in and started the beast.

Once hearing the snarling of the engine coming to life, I walked over to the switch on the wall to raise the large door allowing him the exit he first used when he came here a year ago. He nodded his head towards me when he passed by and quickly said," Hope that cat doesn't give you anymore troubles." He finished and continued on his trek to the car show.

Once he was out of sight, I walked back into the building but not shutting the door. It was almost completely dark with a small windy breeze. The air wasn't cold but most certainly wasn't warm either. I sat back onto my tattered stool and leaned back placing my arms onto the counter I kept near me when airbrushing and stared outside. I watched the city lights at a distance only faintly hearing the cars speed by on the highway. Shivering, as the small breeze got colder by the minute, I pulled on a dark gray paint stained hoodie. I stood up to pick up my stool and carry it outside to watch the environment pass me by. Closing my eyes and leaning back against the building to relax for awhile was interrupted when I saw a familiar Camaro with a familiar someone pull into the cement landing infront of my shop. The door popped open only this time, an extra person opened the passenger door and revealed a girl with dark brown hair and fairly attractive for her age.

The couple I am guessing approached me as I stood up to meet their gaze. Picking up one leg and crossing it over the other I said," I remember you what was your name again? Sorry, I just can't remember names, sometimes I even forget my own." I said trying to avoid conflict knowing that I can say things that I don't mean to be rude but sometimes it tends to differ to the other. He smiled, more like grinned at me," Sam Witwicky, and this is-" the girl next to him interrupted," Sam I know how to introduce myself" She began while watching Sam's grin turn sheepish. She turned back towards me to introduce herself," I am Mikaela Banes" she said with a slight smile not quite soft but not hardened either. Smiling back to her," It is nice to meet you Mikaela. I am FlyVn' Skyler but please, call me Fly." I said smiling more confidently. I looked at both of them for a moment and the voice in my head began,' Maybe you should uh. I don't know, let them in! They might think you're smuggling Hawaiian Ice or something.' I twitched my left eye but as much as I hated that voice, I knew it was right. Shaking my head," It's cold enough to preserve a body out here, come inside." I said letting them go ahead first. Following them in while grabbing my stool, I flipped the door switch to close the massive doorway. As I walked over to the table I used to airbrush cars, I thought best to start a conversation," So, I see that you have fixed some of your rust problems yes?" I said while sitting down onto my stool and gave it a swivel. Mikaela glowered down at Sam as if warning him of some credit she deserved. I watched Sam shrink a little under her gaze but turned his attention back to me," Yeah Mikaela does many wonders and one of those many wonders just happens to be rust removal." Sam said shifting under Mikayla's gaze. She removed her eyes from Sam to look towards me," You should have seen him trying to scrub off the rust with dish soap and a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser." She said with a chuckle. I turned towards Sam with a brow raised," Really? Like I said before, I still take my car to O' Riley's to get my oil changed by a mechanic and even I know how to wash a car even with rust." I said with a small laugh that grew with his ever- decreasing blow to his ego.

He slumped his shoulder with a dramatic glare towards the both of us," Why do you pick on me? It's my first car! I make mistakes too you know…" He trailed off while both of us girls raised our brows at him in mocking silence. His eyes switched between the two of us before he looked away with an amusing scowl.

"So FlyVn', weird name. Does it mean anything?" She questioned. I guess I would get that a lot if I contributed myself in social activities. But none the less I replied," No it doesn't really _mean_ anything. My parents wanted something exotic and completely different so they got a little creative. I actually didn't have a name for a couple days because they couldn't come up with anything. It was a tie between Jasper and FlyVn' and I just now realized how boyish my names are…." I dropped off. I could hear Sam mutter," Wish I had a cool name…"

Mikaela and I smirked towards him but remained silent in the end. Realizing why they were probably here," So I am guessing you came back for the paint job correct?" I stated. He snapped his head up to look at me then smiled," Yep that's why I am here. Mikaela even pitched in some money for me." He said with a thankful nod towards the girl.

Looking between the both of them I wandered my eyes around the room before settling on him. I half smiled and said," Well I have room now. Within a couple days some of the cars will be picked up as well. You can drop em' off tomorrow morning if that works for you." I offered. He smiled and nodded towards me, deciding to head off but replying before he did so," That works fine. We're going to head back home and we'll see you tomorrow morning Fly." He said as he waited for Mikaela to follow. She gave her goodbyes and left after him.

Waiting until I heard their car snarl to life and pull out of the drive way I released a sigh of relief," Very interesting they seem to be." I said to myself before shutting down the shop and locking the doors. I left the light in front of the large doors on as to give the impression somebody was here even though there actually was. I headed off to the back of the building towards my room with Diesel following behind and the sharp eyes of 300 sinking into nonexistence.

….

_Whelp that does it. Quote at the top is from me. Someone I believed asked me if Fly was a girl and to answer that she is. Hopefully more interesting action will take place unless I feel like torching your patience with the fires of suspense._

_(O)ctober_


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